Club Hetalia
by Lady Hart
Summary: So, when the Nordic Brothers plan a party and invite the other Hetalia nations, things go a bit crazy. Pairings include: USxUK, PhilxKor, FranxCan, GermxN.It, SpainxS.It, PruxAus, SuxFin, DenxNor, and ChixRus


**LH: I have writer's block for my other stories and just got into Hetalia, so I thought I'd give it a try. Please let me know what you think! Also, beware of the pairings: USxUK, DenXNor, SuXFin, RomaxSpain, ChiXRus, CanaXFran, KorxPhil, PruxAust, and GermxFeli.**

The Nordic Brothers always had their annual beginning of the long days (**in northern Europe, there is a period of time when there is no night…check it out) **party. The other countries decided they want in on it too…and it ended up being something completely different…

"I can't believe you let the Netherlands talk you into making this party into a rave," Norway sighed as he took a sip of his drink. Dressed in a dark blue polo and black leather pants, he leaned against the bartending table with ease. He glanced over at the taller Nordic next to him in the bright red jacket and grey turtleneck who was grinning from ear to ear.

Yes, they were just planning to have a simple picnic with friends near the fjords, but instead Netherlands invited everyone over to his club in Amsterdam. With the lights down low, the music all the way up, and all of the nations there, it was like a World Conference, minus the business suits. America and England were still bickering in a corner while Korea was harassing his ASEAN brethren. Even Russia and China, the older countries, were sitting in a corner smugly.

"Isn't this a fun change, though?" Denmark laughed as he put an arm around the smaller Nordic, making Norway blush. "Looks like everyone is having a good time! Look, even Sweden is getting in the groove!" Denmark and Norway looked over to the tall blonde in the tan leather jacket and navy blue turtleneck who was embracing their smaller brother donning a white shirt and blue sweater, who didn't know how to handle the situation.

"I think Tino's going to have a long night ahead of him," Norway commented.

Denmark looked at the guy next to him mischievously, "We can have our own long night if you want…"

Norway spit out his drink and blushed. "SHUT UP!"

* * *

"Hey, this is DJ Piri with Emcee Korea and we're spinning the records tonight," a short, but energetic girl said as she addressed the crowd. The Philippines, being the best in bringing East and West music and culture together, was in charge of the DJ booth. The only problem was…

"Hey, Piri! Check this out!" Korea grinned as he tried to jump over the DJ booth and break dance on the floor. Though he failed miserably in the first act, he nailed the breakdancing part.

Philippines sighed. The country that claimed the 'origin of everything' was her origin of problems.

* * *

"England!" America cheesed as he reached for the wrist of the older nation wearing a white dress shirt, black vest and matching black tie. "Where are you going?"

"Home, you bloody git!" England spat, "Parties aren't my scene."

"But we just got here!" America whined.

"There's no 'we,'" England crossed his arms and turned to face America, who was sporting a black leather jacket, faded jeans, and a graphic tee with the American flag on it. "If you want to stay, no one is stopping you. As for me, I'm heading home."

"Don't be such a killjoy," America smirked, "Besides, a hero can't stay at a party unless his date is there."

England blushed. "I am not your date!"

"Fine," America said as he moved towards Arthur, who found himself backed up against a wall. The taller nation leaned closer, trapping England with nowhere to go. His blue eyes and smile looked predatory, making England shiver. "But you can't deny the fact that over the centuries, you've wanted me just as bad as I wanted you."

America traced a finger along the contours of England's face. England couldn't suppress a moan. "Alfred."

America hungrily took England's lips with his. England wrapped his arms around America's broad shoulders and ran his hands through the man's blonde hair. How he had missed touching that hair. How long had it been? Maybe since the Revolution…

"GET A ROOM!"

America and England broke apart, both breathing hard and faces flushed with lust as well as embarrassment. They looked over to see France, wearing a loose dress shirt and tight leather pants with his arm around Canada, who was blushing madly in his black North Face.

"Geeze, you'd think that you'd all have more self-restraint," France smirked.

"Speak for yourself, France!" England barked and was about to tear the perverted nation away from his little brother, but America wrapped an arm around England's waist and grinned.

"Iggy and I were just leaving. I've got a suite waiting for us…so if you need England, he won't be available until tomorrow," America grinned as he winked at England, who was left speechless. Was he serious?

"I…I think I want to stay at the party longer," England stammered. There was no way that he was going to make this easy for America. England pulled America by the hand to the dance floor, trying to hide his embarrassment.

America just sighed, but then smiled again, "Well, someone's taking charge of this date."

"They talk as though we're not here," Canada sighed as they watched the odd couple walk away.

"Well, I know you're here _mon cheri_," France winked. "In fact, I think it might be better if they don't notice we're here so we can make our own quick escape."

Canada blushed, but didn't object as he and France walked out of the club.

* * *

"Bruder!" Prussia grinned at Germany, who was behind the bar, tending to the drinks, "Get me a drink for me and my wench!"

"Who are you calling wench!" Austria huffed. He was dressed in an ivory colored turtleneck and black pants…which he considered much more fashionable than Prussia's tattered black muscle shirt and dark skinny jeans.

Prussia grinned, "But you didn't object to being mine!"

"Shut up!" Austria blushed as he took the drink from Germany and downed it in one gulp. Better to just down some beer than admit that he was *shudders* in love with the annoying ex-nation.

"Germany!" Veneziano , who was wearing a white, green, and red polo shirt and blue jeans, shouted as he jumped on the counter and grinned at the blonde dressed in a tight black shirt and dark jeans, "I want something to go with my pasta!"

"Italy," Germany sighed, "All we have here are alcoholic drinks. I don't think you want…"

"I'll have a bottle of this, _grazi_!" Veneziano grinned as he took a bottle of Germany's finest beer and downed it in one gulp.

"Dang," Prussia said in amazement, "That definitely beats my awesomeness at chugging down beer."

"Italy, that was improper," Austria said to the side.

Veneziano burped and then handed the empty bottle to Germany, who was gaping in amazement. Veneziano grinned and then moved closer to Germany, his face a few inches from his. "I think I know what would go great with my pasta."

"Wh…what?" Germany felt his face get red. The Italian reeked of beer and pasta…and it was driving him crazy.

Veneziano leaned closer and whispered in his ear. "You."

Prussia laughed as Germany grabbed Italy and made a mad dash to the storage room. Pasta and beer…who know it would make a deadly combination for the German?

"So, want to head to the storage room too, Princey?" Prussia smiled mischievously at Austria, who only responded by downing another glass of beer.

* * *

"Where did Veneziano go?" Spain asked as he and Romano sat in a booth watching all of the other nations dance.

"Who cares? I just want to know if he's going to finish his pasta," Romano, dressed in a black hoodie and wearing a similar shirt to that of his brother's, frowned as he stared at the plate next to him. His twin had said that he was just going to get a drink…

Romano snapped out of his train of thought as he looked over at Spain, who was looking at him mischievously. Romano couldn't help but notice he looked good in his new soccer jersey…

"What?" Romano frowned, crossing his arms.

"_Quieres bailar. Querido?"_ the Spaniard asked in his most seductive and husky voice. They had been in that booth all night and now that Veneziano was busy, he wanted to make a move.

"No," Romano said plainly, "Go back to Barcelona and dance with a gypsy there or something." No, wouldn't give in.

"_Por favor_," Spain pleaded, "No gypsy would ever be able to enchant me as much as you do."

Romano blushed, got up, and led Spain to the dance floor. Damn that Spaniard.

* * *

In the other booth, the elder nations were uneasy. The younger nations were dancing, drinking, and having a good time and they would have too…but…

_Why can't Russia just leave me alone_? China asked himself as he sat quietly next to the taller, burlier nation dressed in a long tan jacket and a dark shirt. _I want to be by myself…_

Russia looked over to China, who was dressed in his Oriental style peasant shirt, sift through his thoughts. The nation was too much of a worrywart…but he liked him anyways.

"Why don't you dance?" Russia asked. "I've seen you at your festivals and you're pretty good."

"Why, thank you, Russia," China gave him a small smile, "But my dancing is quite different from this…" he didn't know what it was. It looked more like primitive animal mating to him.

"Well, as America says 'it is never to late to teach an old dog new tricks,'" Russia chuckled. "Besides, you can show them a thing or two."

"Why don't you go, Russia?" China asked, trying to suppress a blush.

"Well, I wouldn't enjoy myself," Russia gave a small smile.

"Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't be there."

` Russia got up and offered his hand to a blushing China, who accepted the hand shyly.

* * *

"I hope everyone had an awesome time!" Philippines said as she started to turn down the volume a bit in preparation for the last song. "Now, for our last dance, we're going to take it slow. Grab your special someone and head to the dance floor."

Piri watched as her friends paired up and headed to the dance floor. America laughed he held a reluctant England in his arms. Veneziano sighed contentedly as a blushing Germany held him close. Austria didn't say a word as Prussia wrapped his arms around him. Even the ever-swearing Romano was smiling as he and Spain danced. Netherlands and Belarus (**I KNOW…GASP) **were giving each other death glares, but still kept on dancing. Denmark grinned as he spun around Norway and Sweden rested his head on top of Finland's as they slow danced as well. China and Russia just smiled at each other as they waltzed.

"What about your special someone?"

Piri turned around to see Korea next to her, putting his headphones down. He'd been waiting all night…

"I'm the DJ," Piri blushed, "I don't dance."

"Well, I'm sure that just for once, Ms. DJ would like to be spun around rather than spinning her records by herself," Korea smiled as he offered her his hand. Piri thought for a moment, but then smiled and took it as they walked to the dance floor.

Yes, he was the origin of everything annoying and klutzy, but just for tonight, he was going to be the origin of one of her most magical and treasured memories…


End file.
